


Desperation

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [10]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7757275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has tracked Will and Hannibal down and he has brought Clarice with him, trying to force a resolution and/or revenge.<br/>But then, you cannot force Hannibal to do anything can you? Except maybe Will...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to bring the character arcs with Jack and Clarice to a... gentle yet... fitting end :P  
> Let me know what you think! :)
> 
> As always, start with '[Baptism](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6561175)', pt 1 of this series if you haven't for character development - all else, enjoy!!
> 
> Also, I am aware that Jack Crawford canonically dies in the book 'Hannibal', from a heart attack. I believed they needed a bit more of a resolution, here.

The last sun rays on the surface of the lake give off a tranquil light, perfectly contradicting Wills state of mind, spinning and churning as it is, fueled by hate and fury, fingers itching for cold steel. Emily is beside him, after being freed from the leash she was put on inside the house, watching him, and Will takes grim satisfaction in the fact that she apparently put quite a few scratches on Jack when -they- arrived. Or at least Hannibal told him so in quiet words when he brought her out. 

Will sighs deeply, trying to release the anger with it, not quite managing. He rolls his shoulders, sensing Hannibal standing behind him, still waiting, both ignoring their visitors, safe in the knowledge that if -they- wanted the police here, there would be already. Will rolls his shoulders again, feeling Hannibal step up and put his hands on them tentatively, starting to squeeze them softly but thoroughly when Will doesn’t pull away. Will clears his throat, shaking his head at himself.

„I… I anticipated Jack coming here eventually, but it never crossed my fucking mind that he would bring her with him.“

Hannibal hums, waiting, his fingers continuing uninterrupted. Will sighs through his nose, clicking his tongue, tone bordering on viciously amused.

„Guess she won’t go away until we deal with her. So…“

He steps away and turns, raising his hands to Hannibals lapels, gripping tightly.

„So let’s deal with her.“

Hannibal licks his lips, eyes black, the beast behind them reigned in just for Will. Will greets it with his own, the smile on his lips more honest in expression, teeth flashing. He pulls Hannibal down, ignoring their audience, the kiss instantly deep, possessive. Will bites at Hannibals lips for a moment when he draws back and then drops his hands, stepping passed Hannibal and towards their… guests. 

He walks slowly, his gaze open on them, secure in this space, their shared home. Each step settles him more, the view of the past refocusing itself into perspective. When he reaches the stairs he smiles, turning into a grin when he stops before the table. He purses his lips, shifting his weight, feeling the silence. It makes him grin wider.

„I… apologize for the holdup, Jack, Clarice. Would you like something to drink?“

Jacks tone is angry and tired, sad and furious.

„Cut the crap, Will. Don’t pretend you’re him.“

Will raises his eyebrows, chuckling. 

„Ah, no, Jack, don’t worry.“

He leans closer, bowing down towards Jack, feeling Hannibal come up behind him, his presence burning his soul. Will whispers.

„I’m not him… he’s me.“

Will chuckles and sees the smile twitch across Hannibals lips from the corner of his eyes when Hannibal steps passed him and into their house, no doubt preparing refreshments and snacks. Leaving Will to deal with them for now which would have infuriated him mere minutes ago but just leaves him feeling grounded in their shared security now. Jack follows Hannibals movements, gaze dark before he grinds his teeth and refocuses on Will. There is a fidgeting from the other side of the table and Will pulls up another chair and seats himself, crossing his legs. He breathes in deeply, Emily coming up and sitting down besides him, getting her scratch behind her ears immediately. Will grins at Jack, looking at the scratches on his forearms.

„Glad to see you were clever enough not to harm her…“

Jack snorts.

„I’m surprised there aren’t more here.“

Wills grin turns soft, reflective, softly petting Emily.

„I don’t need a packs protection anymore, Jack. And she’s family. Though she might need a sibling at some point…“

He sighs through his nose and finally turns to the other person gracing their table, hands clamped together on the table, freezing under his gaze. There’s not much left in her of the successful agent these days Will reflects wryly. 

„I must say I didn’t expect Jack to bring you along, Clarice.“

Her voice shakes when she answers, fury and desperation tinged, accusatory.

„Tough. You did this to me. You made Jack send me to him. You made him send me away again. You fucking ruined my life.“

She pauses, blue eyes blazing and Will is reminded why he chose her. He waits, knowing she’ll need to get this out, keeping his eyes on her even though Hannibal steps back out with a tray. She almost spits the words out, hands white-knuckled on the table.

„And now you dare to be pissed because I disturb your little hideaway. How high and mighty of you.“

The silence is heavy, Hannibal breaking it after a few moments when he distributes plates and glasses on the table, puts some bread with dips and chilled rose wine on it. Will keeps her gaze, his expression softening though his voice is hard.

„Tell me, Clarice, did Jack tell you that Hannibal and I were already married when he sent you to him?“

Her eyes flicker across the table, a hint of confusion stealing into them before they snap back to Wills. Will smiles bitterly, unsurprised.

„As I thought. It doesn’t matter now though. You’re right. I chose you. I made Jack send you to him, knowing full well the effect it… -could- have.“

He swallows, this truth the first time he admitted it to himself. He feels Hannibal hover behind him, eyes riveted to the three of them, watching like a shark. He forces himself to continue.

„I didn’t think it would go that far, if it’s any consolation. Jack was very pleased to rub it under my nose though.“

He shoots a look at Jack who just gazes back darkly, the deep lines on his face giving away his condition. Will looks at his bloodshot eyes, the white yellowed, breathing labored. Whatever happens, Jack won’t be leaving. He turns back to Clarice, reaching for the wine and pouring it for them all, taking a sip when he is done, the cool liquid soothing in his throat. She follows suit, voice raw when she speaks again.

„Guess I can be glad you didn’t want to share…“

Will closes his eyes for a moment, the jab expected and yet hurting quite efficiently. His tone is flat when he opens them again, honest.

„Apart from other… considerations, I didn’t want to abuse you, too. Because that’s what this was, Clarice, no matter if you were desperate for the attention at first. Or ordered to engage him, or whatever. He drugged you and abused your trust and your mind and your body.“

Will smiles grimly, staring at the bottle on the table, seeing Clarice -and- Hannibal swallow from the corners of his eyes.

„I know what -that- feels like.“

Will closes his eyes again for a few seconds, the echo of their past personified fidgeting in her seat. His voice is a whisper, loud in the breathless silence between them.

„He also freed me. Or he made me free myself. Did you free yourself as well?“

He opens his eyes again, locking onto her wide ones. Her breath is coming in short breaths, holding her glass in a death grip. She doesn’t answer. Will smiles a vicious smile, teeth flashing.

„Mhhh. Not yet then.“

She keeps looking at him, wide eyed, silent. He turns to Jack, ignoring Hannibal across from him, his gaze heavy on Will. Will smiles at Jack, raising his eyebrows.

„Did you offer her some kind of resolution?“

Jack scoffs, squeezing the bridge of his nose before he answers.

„No. In fact, I offered her revenge.“

Will hums, nodding to himself. He shrugs, raising his glass.

„To revenge then. Good luck.“

Will can feel Hannibals gaze on him, proud, sees his smile when he downs the contents of his glass. Will grins.


	2. Chapter 2

They retire after the simple and silent meal following Wills toast, Jack and Clarice already having taken up residence in the guest rooms on the other side of the house since they came here. Will sighs and leans back against the door, watching Hannibal turn to him, still silent. Hannibal had let Will lead this evening, his presence silent and intense. But unrepentant. Will feels the antlers break free in his neck, stretching across their shared space, suspending them in this moment. He raises his chin, silently beckoning and Hannibal comes, a predator in every fibre, meeting him with his own darkness. Will whispers, grinning darkly.

„Did you enjoy this evening? I bet you did…“

Hannibals eyes are fathomless black, glinting hard in the moonlight filtering in through the window. His voice is low, considering but appreciating.

„Very much so, beloved.“

He pauses, pushing his body into Will, their breaths mingling, his voice taking on a mean inflection.

„Would you like to partake in her flesh?“

Will snarls, hands shooting up, pulling Hannibal back by his hair. He hisses.

„I didn’t wish to share her body with you, are you really asking me to eat her?“

Hannibals eyes are wide on his, a sharklike quality in them. Will continues on, uncaring, fingers gripping tight.

„I fucking hate her. Or better that she’s here. What she represents. But she’s right, it’s also my fault she’s here. And she’s a victim here as well. We will let her go. For now.“

He punctuates his last words with tugs on Hannibals hair and Hannibal smiles at him, forcing his head down after, ignoring the pull and the pain, his tone gravelly and admiring.

„She will not stop, beloved.“

Will grins, eyes glinting as Hannibal closes in, words almost inaudible.

„I’m counting on it. Where would be the fun?“

 

_____________________

 

Will goes for a run the next morning, slowing down when he hears her footsteps, straining to keep up. She pulls up to him, panting, Emily barking at her but Will silences her with a small gesture. They continue on, silent, for half a mile, before Will breaks it, in between breaths.

„How convenient that you brought running shoes.“

Clarice coughs a laugh, startled into amusement, though her voice is bitter.

„This is how I showed up on Jacks door. In a training outfit, sweating, my feet running towards some kind of help without any conscious thought.“

She is silent for another half mile.

„You don’t like me.“

Will shakes his head, sweat drops flying.

„No. Not your fault though. More what you represent. What you had with him. What he decided to do to you. And… You’re … looking for a resolution, for recompense if you so will and I… will not have you in our life.“

Wills expression grows hard, watching her from the corner of his eyes.

„I have my life back. I will not let you in it. I fought too hard, sacrificed too much to give in now.“

She lashes out, her fist connecting with Wills chest in full run and they go down in a tumble of limbs, Wills fitness and training outweighing hers, though it’s a tough struggle, desperation making her vicious, Emily barking at them. He uses his weight to push her down, sitting on her legs, holding her arms and he leans down to her, seeing her break into tears, her eyes closing. His tone is almost kind.

„Get your life back as well, Clarice. If you pursue us, you will end as dinner. And then I -would- partake.“

He releases her and gets up, continuing his run.

____________________

 

Will returns with bun rolls for breakfast, dropping them on the kitchen counter, pressing a kiss to Hannibals neck where he scrambles eggs and excusing himself to shower, passing Jacks guest room just as Jack steps out. Will doesn’t smile but his gaze is almost kind, Jack gazing back at him with a weary dark smile, turning towards the sounds in the kitchen but stopping after just one step.

„Weird, isn’t it Will, that there is no reception for my mobile here anymore? I could’ve sworn I was able to use my phone before we came near here.“

Will turns from his bedroom door, hands on his hips, still breathing heavily from the run. He grins, tilting his head.

„Very…“

He opens his door, leaving Jack to do as he will, secure in the knowledge that the jammer they installed is doing it’s job. And only they know the passcode to bypass it.

He showers and shaves, deciding to take the beard off today, knowing very well the effect this will have. He dresses in light tan clothes, the day a sunny promise. When he returns to the kitchen Jack is seated at the table next to the open kitchen, Hannibal cutting up fruit, Jack watching on darkly. There is a constant frown on his forehead, seemingly etched there, his eyes small.

Will gets himself a cup of coffee and sits down next to him, silently sipping. Jack sighs deeply, fidgeting, his hands shaking. Will gets up and wordlessly gets some of their whiskey, spicing Jacks coffee with it before returning it to the cabinet. Jacks hands still after a few sips and Will just looks at him, emotions unexpectedly clear, as is his voice when he speaks finally.

„Before or after her?“

Jack pulls a grimace, taking another swig. Hannibal places the plates before them, beautifully arranged breakfast for all four of them on them and Will picks up his fork and digs in, smiling softly at Hannibal, who trails a finger along his jaw. Jack looks down at his own plate, pulling a grimace and follows suit, chuckling wryly when he tastes the scrambled eggs.

„Still so delicious. I must say, it’s almost a wonder, but I really still like your cooking.“

He falls silent again, his next words answering Wills question, tone bordering on amused.

„After your little stunt down the cliff… With Bella gone and Alana in hiding, Frederic in rehab, there was no-one there that -knew- that I could talk to about this. About you. About what you did. About what I… made you do. Or, better, about what you made me do.“

Jack chuckles again, taking another mouthful of his coffee, the trembling of his hands quieting down. Hannibal tilts his head, his gaze calculating, tone happily condescending.

„And now you are here, Jack. Bringing another failed trainee to the home that I share with Will. I must say, it is not quite your best call I believe.“

Will snorts, a sneer playing on his lips. He bites a piece of bread off, chewing leisurely, gaze flitting up to Hannibals and back to Jack, voice insistent.

„How come you’re here, Jack? With her? And without backup…“

Jack sighs and picks at the fruit with his fork, putting it aside after a moment, linking his hands, tone joyfully sarcastic, starting very low, but rising in volume with every word.

„Imagine my surprise when there was almost no news after your escape, Will. Whatever little deal you have with Alana must really be something. And then, months later, Clarice vanishes and then ‚Tattle Crime‘ of all things starts to write about a vigilante down in Argentina. What a coincidence! I knew it was you. I prayed that the blood we found after the police tried to apprehend you would be a fatal wound. But no, that poor officer at the supermarket destroyed that hope once and for all. I don’t think that cashier will ever eat meat again. And then… They lost your trail in south america. Some thought you might be dead. But not you, no, I knew you weren’t. I resigned again and traced every fucking plane starting from south america on my own time. I knew it was you when I found out that private plane crashed. I just knew.“

Jack pauses, trying to calm his voice again, eyes wild. Will takes another sip of coffee, while Hannibal calmly eats on, Clarices plate going cold. Jack turns his attention to Hannibal, quietly seething.

„You really did a number on her, you know that? Probably even more so than Will. I don’t think you ever made him actually -do- anything he didn’t want to, did you? Oh, you faked and abused, but Will still did things his way, only bent, never truly broken. But her, her you almost destroyed.“

Jack pushes the plate away, seemingly uninterested in his food anymore, a move watched by Hannibal with an almost reptile like tilt of his head. It makes Will grin and snicker, not bothering to hide his reaction. Jack shoots him a look of deep hatred and he addresses Will again, tone disgusted.

„He fucked her, Will. You know that. She told me that he ‚trained‘ her so she would offer him her breast, can you believe it? She said it’s almost a deep haze, filled with time gaps and moans.“

Will stills, seething. He looks at the plate with the now cold food, his empathy providing the rest of the images. He closes his eyes, tense, feeling Hannibals hand close over his own. Hannibals voice is cold and vicious, though his inflection is still amused.

„And I can assure you, that I made sure that she enjoyed herself, just as I did. I am not a selfish lover, Jack, but I did betray Will, which is the repercussion I deeply regret. Therefore, if you wish to pursue this topic of conversation further, I suggest you keep your words extremely polite, or -I- will keep your tongue.“

Will snarls quietly, forcing down the fury directed at both of them, his eyes cold fire when he opens them again, his voice almost inaudible, seconding the sentiment.

„This is on me and you in equal measure, Jack, However, I suggest you behave yourself if you wanna stay here. I’m sure you’re aware of the alternative.“

Jack snorts grimly, nodding slowly, taking another swig. He puts the mug down after a moment, spreading his hands, smile a mocking gentile expression.

„That’s why I brought something for you… a gift if you so will. Something we found in the back of the car at the Warehouse… How about that is my payment for my… stay.“

Wills heart skips a beat. Their wedding suits. It must be them. The only things they really dragged around with them, packed away but sacred. Hannibal inclines his head a fraction, tone accepting.

„Ah, a good choice, Jack. However, I must insist that you choose your words carefully from now on.“

Jack snorts, taking another sip of his spiced coffee.

Her steps echo in the quiet and she comes to them after a moment, haltingly, dusty and sweaty, pushing her dark blonde hair behind her ear when she sits down, eyes puffy, arms bruised from where Will held onto them earlier. He can tell Hannibal catches on when the hand on his own tightens for a moment.  
Will forces himself to speak.

„What is it that you want from us, Jack? Why -are- you here?“

Will is aware of Clarice holding her breath across from him, lowering her gaze to her plate. Jack upends his cup, sighing when he puts it down, preparing to answer, but Hannibal beats him to it.

„Jack wants to find peace being surrounded by those that know. He has found enough clarity to know he will not find peace anywhere else…. Better the devil you know.“

Hannibal smiles softly, continuing.

„He also wishes for Clarice to find clarity here as well. It is unfortunate that these wishes are rather mutually exclusive.“

Hannibal pauses, sipping his own coffee, three pairs of eyes following his movements. Hannibals voice is contemplative.

„Did you know, Jack, that Bella asked me to save you for her when she would be gone? I wonder if she meant your mental or your physical well-being. I am afraid only one can be achieved.“

He pauses again, his next words ringing in the air.

„If you stay here, you will never leave again, Jack. If you wish to leave, I will need to destroy your mind. Either way, Clarice will need to leave or die.“

There is a dead silence at the table, Wills harsh whisper breaking it.

„She knows that already. Don’t you, Clarice.“

She nods slowly, eyes dead. Will sees the minute twitch of a sneer play on her lips though, her spirit severely bruised but far from broken.

He grins darkly, turning to Jack.

„Clarice will leave. Make no mistake Jack, if you stay, I will… partake eventually.“

Jack sneers at him, silent. Will raises his cup in a toast.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrange for Clarice to be picked up the next afternoon, the rented helicopter arriving on time. Jack watches her go, seated in a chair on the veranda next to Hannibal, averting his eyes. She keeps staring straight ahead, head held high, blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, carrying her little duffle bag. Will stands close to the paddock, leaning against a wooden gate, watching as well, his neck prickling. She stops on her way over, close to him, her words just loud enough for him to hear.

„I will never forgive you. Or him, that he chose you after… after all we… shared. That he just… drops me… after what he did to me.“

She swallows, before leveling Will with a cold stare.

„I will find a way to get at you. Get at you both.“

She shakes her head once, furious confusion stealing into her expression.

„Why do you let me go? I could tell the world where you are.“

Will pushes himself from the gate, rolling his shoulders before he steps nearer. He sighs deeply, reaching for a stray curl of hair to push it behind her ear. She trembles with hatred but endures his touch. His voice is light, though he knows the words cut deep.

„You must leave because you wish to stay, Clarice. I won’t have you here. And… you’re clever enough to know what would happen should you choose to betray any information of our home. However…“

Will steps even closer, grins darkly.

„I -know- you can’t let this lie. We’re too similar in a way. So… Give it your best shot.“

She recoils from him and then adds quietly to his challenge.

„And the winner takes it all.“

She turns and doesn’t look back, Will watching until the helicopter disappears in the distance.

The game is on.

 

______________________

 

The next weeks pass in a weary truce, Jack drinking with Hannibal on the veranda in the evenings, Will once more taking to riding, days spend carefully in parallel, apart but close. There is almost no discussion, no talk and Will watches Jack fall into himself, exhaustion of body and mind finally coming to rest yet taking their toll, though his eyes become clearer with every day. 

It’s obvious that his heart has taken a hit sometime in the last few years, a fact that they have silently confirmed through their less… official channels. It makes Will itch, a part of him wanting to lash out at Jack, the part that was his old self once upon a time. 

Hannibal watches him in seemingly curious amusement as the need to act builds itself up in Will, taking the backlash from frustrated energy in their bed, fanning the fire ever more when he suggests to check up on Clarice, Will literally growling at him. Hannibal grins and revels in Wills darkness, eyes black, both their beasts at the fore. It leaves Will panting, both scratched and temporarily sated, more than aware of the man responsible of bringing them together only two thin walls away. 

It’s when he cannot stand the situation anymore that he takes to his gift once more, envisioning courses of action. Of course a knife will not do. Will grins grimly, watching Jack over the breakfast table, eating his protein scramble. Only pork in there this time. Will takes a sip of his orange juice, wondering aloud, tone deceptively light.

„Would you like to know how you taste, Jack?“

He can feel Hannibal slow almost imperceptibly down in the kitchen behind him, listening closely. Jack pauses for a moment, swallowing and then levels Will with a look of utter contempt.

„Can’t leave it alone, Will? Why let me stay here, if you cannot stand it…“

Will clicks his tongue, drumming his fingers once, considering their history, watching Jacks weary face. 

„I wonder… did you ever trust me when you pulled me back from -them- and back into it? Did you ever stop to wonder and listen to Alana? Did you ever consider… my well being?“

Jack scoffs.

„Your well being? You’re a grown man, Will. You don’t need anybody to look out for that.“

Jack draws back, pushing the plate away, settling into his chair more deeply, shrugging.

„To answer your question: no. It wasn’t my place. I thought that -he- would do that, at first. And later, after all the shit and the blood and the scars, when he went to prison I thought you had learned your lesson. Guess I was wrong about that. Molly blamed me for your disappearance… and she let me know so in not so uncertain terms. But then, you fucked her over just as much as I did.“

Jack leans forward again, linking his hands.

„So no, Will, I did not consider your well being. I wanted to save lives.“

Hannibal chimes in, tone congenial and friendly, only the slight twitch on his lips giving the chained fury away.

„Did you, Jack? Save lives?“

Jack hits the table with his fist, bellowing.

„Yes, Hannibal. I did!!“

He falls back, clutching at his chest and Will purses his lips, watching Jack draw slightly panicked breaths. Wills tone is very soft.

„The end justifies the means… The wrong thing being the right thing to do being too ugly a thought.“

He chuckles darkly yet amused, sipping his orange juice again, sighing before continuing.

„Well, I know all about that… Though I only tried to ever sacrifice myself, not little, unknowing trainees…. Did you think it would save you bringing her here?“

Jack is silent for a while, breathing heavily still. When he answers his tone is vicious.

„I thought it would help her. Maybe make Hannibal reconsider his feelings, there… as far as I know he’d never been into men. Bet he only considers you as the ultimate conquest, taking you and fucking with you.“

Wills hand closes on the knife, his hand snapping up and towards Jacks face without much of a conscious thought, the tip of the knife only being halted by Hannibals grip on his arms, a mere millimeters from Jacks eyes. Wills hand trembles, his face a mask of dark rage, the snarl firmly in place. Hannibal pries the knife from his hand, softly placing it on the table, movements tightly controlled. His tone is pleasantly warm when he addresses Jack, Will still staring at Jack in fury. 

„Ah Jack, desperation makes you very rude. You are very well aware that we are what you call soul mates.“

Hannibal turns to Will, and bends down, presses a kiss to Wills lips, and after a moment of stubborn stillness Wills hands shoot up and grip onto his shoulders, half rising off his seat, the kiss deep and wet instantly, reassuring and needing, heat and obsession pouring from their tongues. Hannibal draws back after a moment, tracing Wills lips with his fingers, addressing him softly.

„Do not let him beguile you into killing him. It -is- pure desperation, beloved. Jack is rather afraid of a slow death, I believe. Therefore, I would wish nothing more than to honor Bellas last request and save him for her… and therefore ultimately see him die here of natural causes. Especially after all that has transpired, mylimasis.“

They both turn their eyes to Jack who watches them with hooded eyes. His tone is angry yet defeated when he answers their unvoiced challenge.

„Fine. Damn you both.“

Will levels him with a dark look, before he lets his hands fall down to press none too gently into the bruises on Hannibals chest from the bullet before dropping to Hannibals sides, slowly pulling the shirt up, his smile turning lewd, voice muffled against Hannibals throat, rapidly growing breathless between nips. 

„I suggest you go elsewhere, Jack. We’ll need the table.“


	4. Chapter 4

Jack tries to stab Will twice the next evening, resulting in a broken wrist and bruises on his arms, courtesy of Hannibals intervention, though Will is far more relaxed, now that they have… talked a bit and is more amused than anything else by it. Their discussion is by no means an ultimate resolution, but then, that is probably an utopian expectation. 

He watches, leaning against the doorframe when Hannibal bandages Jacks wrist, wondering at the deft handling, so different from the time Hannibal wrapped Wills hands so many years ago, almost worshipful back then. He just has to ask.

„Did you really think you could take us with you, Jack?“

The silence is deafening, Hannibal shooting Will an amused glance from where he kneels next to Jack. Emily trots up to Will and he scratches her head, squatting down to cuddle her. Jack watches darkly, his voice a deep whisper.

„I had to try… “

Will grins, quoting words relayed to him by Margot way back then, tone playful.

„If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, try again.“

Hannibal shoots him another look, chuckling softly. He gets up and steps over to Will, pressing a kiss to his temple, silently accepting his course of action.

Jack grins grimly, shaking his head at them, seething.

„Very well. I’ll try.“

Will waves and flashes him a fierce smile, but takes Hannibals hand and tugs Hannibal out with him, locking the door to Jacks room after them. Hannibal tilts his head in question and Will shrugs, grinning at him. 

„Sorry, not sorry? But I really want all your senses on me now. We can give him fair chances later.“

 

_______________________

 

The next few days have a quality of breathless intensity to them. Like swimming with sharks, Will muses, chuckling when he remembers that they could do that here, just a few meters from the coast. He runs his hands over his wedding suit, tracing the smudges on it, having insisted on not cleaning them, before he returns them to their closet, treasured in their imperfection. 

The days are slow though, Jack sitting quietly on the veranda, staring at nothing, musing. Will doesn’t fool himself into thinking that he would have given up. No, it’s a build up, and Will can feel it in his bones. Hannibal is pretty chipper, enjoying the possibility to cook for them with elaborate dinners, some of the meat organic, some… not. Jack never hesitates to eat. Never asks. Never speaks during. Will muses cutting his own food, that it would be an uncomfortable quiet for other people. But for them, this is like the first course, an aperitif, meant to be savored. He puts his bite into his mouth, grinning at Hannibal, seeing the echo play on his lips. 

_______________________

 

Will returns from swimming with Hannibal when he stops abruptly, Hannibal bumping into him slightly on their way up to the house. Will fidgets, trying to pinpoint what set him off, and then the pieces click together in perfect clarity, instantly dipped into blackish red rage. Wills voice is a breathless whisper.

„Emily…“

Hannibal freezes behind him for a moment, then literally springs into action, rushing passed Will, who sprints after him after a split second. They storm into the house, Will dropping down onto his knees next to her unmoving form in the living room, Jack sitting next to her on the sofa, arms scratched once more. He smiles grimly and Will screams through his clenched teeth, his hands checking her body frantically. Jack quietly raises a small vial with a medical label, grinning darkly.

„My medication. It’s low grade toxic and forbidden for children. I figured it would be worth a shot on animals. She really liked the spiked water. Must have tasted good.“

Will pants open mouthed, eyes wild. He turns to Hannibal who stands behind him, unmoving, a dark menace waiting for Wills call. 

„We need to pump her stomach. NOW!“

He picks her up, carrying her outside to their bathroom, Hannibal vanishing in a blur of movement, returning to him with the necessary equipment. Will watches as Hannibal pushes the tube down her throat, helps to get it all out, hands shaking when she doesn’t move. Hannibal pulls the tube back out, checking her eyes, before he puts his hand on Wills shoulder, shaking him softly, Wills eyes snapping up, wild.

„I am no vet, Will, but I believe only time will tell. She is still breathing shallowly, her heart is stumbling but beating. It will depend how much of it her metabolism can take.“

Will is silent, settling down next to her quietly. Hannibal leaves for a moment, returning with a blanket, putting it over them both. He hesitates for a moment before he drops a kiss onto Wills head, sighing softly. Wills voice is almost inaudible, beyond dark, petting Emily with small strokes of his fingers.

„You’ll need to break your promise to Bella. He has used up his welcome.“

Hannibal tilts his head and then nods his head, once. He leaves Will there, quietly seething, tears stealing down his cheeks.

 

_________________________

 

Will doesn’t know what it is that Hannibal does. Medication or blunt force trauma or something. Who cares. When Emily finally gets back up almost 24 hours later Will still feels like he could rip Jack apart, taking Emily quietly out, ignoring the more than labored breathing from the living room. He makes sure she feeds carefully on some prime cut, settling her back on her pillow on the veranda before returning to the living room. He slowly and heavily steps up to Jack, Hannibal once again a dark shadow, watching from the other side of the room. 

Jack raises his eyes slowly, bloodshot and dim. His voice is a sneer, even chuckling.

„Made you kill me after all.“

Hannibal chimes in, deeply amused.

„Not quite, yet.“

Jacks eyes flit over to him, then back to Will. Will steps close silently, settling across from him, sighing deeply. His voice is tired with no sleep, but cold.

„That wasn’t so clever. I hadn’t thought you would steep so low.“

Jack huffs, ending in a broken chuckle. 

„Wasn’t my intention when I came here to be honest. But it’s obvious she means something to you both… I had to take what I can get.“

Jack draws a very labored breath, panting. Will watches him for a moment and then continues the thought.

„As you have always done… and damn the consequences.“

Jack drops his head back, his eyes closing slowly, voice slowing down.

„So did you, Will. I… know that you don’t have any reason to do this, Will, but, when you encounter Clarice again, free her. Be kind to her.“

He pauses for a moment, breath heavy.

„How will you feel, Will, when I’m gone?“

Wills answer is a breathed hiss.

„Alive.“

Jack nods almost imperceptibly, his breathing shallows, until it is almost inaudible, his head rolling back. Will closes his eyes, jaw working. Hannibal steps close slowly, checking Jacks pulse, and he tilts his head towards Will in consideration.

„I believe he has slipped into a coma. My guess is that he will not survive this night.“

Wills voice is icy.

„Good.“

Hannibal steps back, locks his hands behind his back, fidgeting just slightly, irritating Will further. Will breathes out heavily through his nose, thoroughly annoyed and not in the mood to hide it.

„What.“

Hannibal turns to him, his dark eyes fathomless black, intense and curious. His voice reflects bewilderment.

„It is astonishing that he would think you were inclined to follow his plea.“

Will is silent for a long time before he gets up, stepping close to Hannibal. He raises his chin, his voice cruel, his smile vicious, his hand coming up, tracing Hannibals jaw with his right hand fingers. 

„Oh, but I will.“

Hannibal looks at him and Will has the fleeting thought that he could not possible be more loved than in this very moment.


	5. Chapter 5

They take Jacks eyes, though not for food. Will buries them under the entrance to their little farm, in a little tin box, a final mockery to the FBI in case they are ever found out. Hannibal creates a dish for them from his tongue, commenting on how he wanted to rip it out after his rude behavior and Will eats it with a fierceness he normally reserves for their hunts. The rest they bury close to where their parachutes are buried, close to the coast, no-one around for miles and miles. It’s almost honoring, Will reflects drily, after all Jack managed to track them down all the way to there. 

Will digs through Jacks clothes, but there is not much information to gather, Jacks life already a closed book prior to coming to them. The lack of new information makes him curious though and he steps up to Hannibal in the kitchen, embracing him from behind.

„I never asked… was there anything interesting on us on Mr. Bellantis phone?“

Hannibal hums, stirring the soup. Chicken this time. Smelling divine. Will draws a deep breath, saliva gathering already, his stomach rumbling on cue. Hannibal clicks his tongue at him, chuckling.

„Half an hour, mylimasis. And no, there was nothing overly worrying on Mr. Bellantis phone. Obviously, they are worried that we managed to slip passed their net, even visit Italy. But they are not aware of where we are hiding, or at the very least, Mr. Bellanti wasn’t aware.“

Will hums in turn, nosing along Hannibals neck, his lips gliding over the soft skin between hairline and collar.

„I guess Alana and Margot are probably aware we are more… south.“

He sighs softly against Hannibals skin, closing his eyes, continuing.

„Do you think she is or will be ever satisfied with what you offered her on our anniversary back then? Do you think she bought it? I mean, we haven’t heard anything, but still… it makes me wonder.“

Hannibal chuckles, leaning slightly against Will, turning his head to give Will better access.

„Alana will never again be satisfied with the offers I might make. However, she is too clever to just jump in and will therefore wait patiently for her chance.“

Hannibal puts the soup on low simmer and turns in Wills arms, lips close to Wills.

„This may also be due to the fact that Margot does not want to engage us anymore and would freeze her accounts again. However, Alana will privately insist on her revenge. And it will be glorious.“

He lowers his head, his mouth claiming Wills in a scorching kiss.

 

____________________

 

The postcard arrives the old fashioned way, Will holding it in his hands after sifting through their mail, white knuckled, fingers clenched until they hurt. The picture on the front shows a sign with „End of Earth - 2 miles“ and Will knows this one. Knows it too well.  
  
He closes his eyes, trying to control his breathing. He turns it after a while, his hands shaking, the text on the back a single line: ‚Come by for my birthday, son?‘.  
It’s not signed but Will recognizes the handwriting, his mouth twisting into a cold sneer. He had seen it on the profiles in prison. 

It’s Clarice’s.

He has to give it to her. She knows how to get at them. Will smoothes the postcard down on the table, hitting his fist on it once after, startling Emily. He silently gets up and goes to meet Hannibal, playing on their little piano, a concession, the harpsichord being way too suspicious. He waits until Hannibal finishes his piece and inclines his head towards him, waiting, the deep breath he takes no doubt telling him everything about the state of mind that Will is in. Will smiles grimly, his voice deceptively soft, laced with acid.

„Guess we’ll need another private plane, dear. We’ll need to cross the atlantic again. Sometime in the next 2 weeks.“


	6. Chapter 6

They leave Emily with one of the stable hands, not wanting to risk her in this, the risks simply deemed too high by them both, Will hugging her for a long time before letting go.

They take their own plane again after all, all the way up to a little airstrip near Southampton, the 16h journey exhausting. Hannibal insisted on this part and has of course phoned ahead. They have visas matching their adapted appearance, Hannibal having colored his hair reddish brown and wearing blue contacts, while Will wears brown ones, makeup on his scars and hair gelled back. Sunglasses and totally ridiculous yet expensive clothing do the rest, Will seemingly stepped out of a seventies rom-com with wide trousers and colorful shirt, Hannibal wearing leather jacket and a cigar.   
Will teases him about another Hannibal from a certain TV show when he lights it, the look that Hannibal throws him promising retribution. It makes Will grin for the first time in days, the grim smile seemingly etched into his expression since the card came. It triggers a soft smile from Hannibal in return and suddenly something in Will shifts and he lets himself fall into the anticipation of this hunt, and the promise of a 6 day sea journey. He grins more freely back, touching the tip of his tongue to his left incisor.

They leave the plane there in a rented hangar, adapting their accents and manner to come off like snobs. It makes Will crack up on the inside, throwing himself into the role with gusto, Hannibal probably born to it.

They board the ‚Queen Mary 2‘ without problems that same evening, almost dragging their feet in exhaustion, the large cabin they’ve rented running on the name of ‚Count Belvedere‘ which makes Will almost choke on his own spit when he hears Hannibal literally recite it upon boarding. 

He is still red faced when he flops down onto the large bed, turning his face towards the balcony, the harbor beyond bustling with people, the evening still light enough to watch the departure preparations.  
Hannibal tips the steward and closes the door behind them, silently coming up to the bed, spooning up to Will in one fluid motion. Will reaches back and pulls Hannibals hand over his hip, the warmth making Will melt into the mattress even more. He leans back a bit, feeling Hannibals lips glide along his neck, raising goosebumps all over his skin. Will arches into it a bit, sighing contently, ending in a yawn. Hannibal chuckles behind him, pulling him further in, his voice suffused with amused affection.

„Sleep, beloved. We still have 5 nights to make the best of this bed.“

Will snorts and lightly slaps the hand on his hip, kicking off his shoes and wriggles even more back. His eyes fall shut to the sensation of Hannibals hand pulling him all the way in, with a hand over Wills heart.

 

_______________

 

The need to use the bathroom forces Will to get up a few hours later, the ship obviously already having departed the harbor, black water visible through their balcony door, the ships engine only a soft rumbling in the high class cabin. He carefully extricates himself, watching Hannibal sleep through it and smiles softly to himself, the display of trust breathtaking to behold still, even now. 

When he returns he finds himself standing close to the balcony door for a while, musing, sleep absent suddenly. He sighs quietly through his nose, shaking his head at himself and looks back at Hannibal for a moment, before he quietly takes his shoes and one of the keys from the table where the steward left them and softly pulls the door closed when he steps out. 

He wanders the long corridors of the ship for a while, refusing to think about what Clarice would feel pressured to do to his Dad. Refusing to think about the situation they will find. Refusing to think about all the numerous ways this could be a rather simple trap. Refusing to think about the fact that he is getting them both into danger over a simple postcard. Refusing to think about what he, what they will be walking into. What he will do if this goes wrong. What will happen if it goes south.   
He simply refuses to think, at all, unwittingly wandering deeper and deeper, lower and lower, finally finding himself in front of one of the little movie theaters, deep down in the belly of the beast. He enters, finding himself alone, some kind of artsy documentary showing even at this hour, not really interesting but just enough to provide subtle static for his mind. Will seats himself in the back, unfocusing his eyes on the screen, a breath he didn’t know he was holding rushing out of him. 

Hannibal joins him there, about 30 minutes later, quietly stepping closer to him, watching intensely. Will holds out his hand after a moment, beckoning and Hannibal takes it, but instead of seating himself next to Will he steps over and kneels on and over his lap, effectively filling Wills vision, knees just fitting besides Wills on the seat. His voice is still a bit sleepy, though his eyes are alert, fixed on Wills.

„Your side of the bed was already cool, how long have you been wandering?“

Will doesn’t even ask how Hannibal knows or has known to find him here, his nose probably discerning all the different smells of the rooms and casinos and restaurants Will passed. Or maybe he just knows him too well in his brooding.  
He sighs, threading his fingers through Hannibals in their linked hands, his other coming up to slide up Hannibals thigh, smiling a crooked smile.

„I don’t know. A while. I woke and then I couldn’t not think. And I really don’t want to think.“

Hannibal hums and bends down to ghost a kiss on his forehead, his free hand coming up, his thumb tracing Wills lips. 

„Let me help, beloved. Let me empty your mind.“

Will sighs open mouthed, parts of him excited and other parts exhausted by the offer. Hannibal chuckles and continues, his tone deeply amused and just a tiny bit lewd.

„Do not worry, mylimasis, I will do the work.“

With that he bends down and as if in slow motion offers his mouth to Will and Will, Will cannot not once more. He groans in willing capitulation and tilts his head, their mouths coming together in perfect fit, dry, slow, scorching heat, pressure increasing until Hannibal tilts his head further and opens his mouth, welcoming Wills instantly conquering tongue, the shudder and moan at the forceful push reverberating through Hannibals whole form. Will drops Hannibals hand and puts both of his own on Hannibals hips, his hands squeezing lightly with every push and pull their mouths reenact of something other to come. Hannibals hands come up, settling lightly, oh so lightly around his throat, just there, promising. Will groans and then pushes forward, intensifying the kiss even more, pushing into his hands.

Hannibal glides off his lap and drops to his knees on the floor, Will following the motion forward, never breaking the kiss, already turning wet and sloppy, all heat and sharp spikes of lust shooting through them. Hannibal reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small package of lube, throwing it onto the next seat carelessly and Will chuckles, tempted to hit him for being so lewdly practical, but opting for more kissing instead.

Hannibal grips the hair in his neck, holding Will to himself and Will can feel the motions when Hannibal strips himself of his pants, right there in the last row of a fucking cinema and Will breaks the kiss, throwing his head back, licking his lips, ignoring the pull on his hair and grins, watching Hannibal from lidded eyes, the scene burning itself into his memory, the flickering lights behind Hannibal providing a wild counterpart to the deep fathomless obsessive form that is pulling him in again, never far, never releasing, never sated.

Will sighs when their lips meet again for an almost sweet kiss, Hannibal mouthing softly along his jaw this time after a moment, before one hand goes to Wills belt, pulling it out and Will pushes his hips forward, until he can feel the edge of the seat under his hips. Hannibal pulls down the pants carefully, leaving them on just above Wills knees, effectively trapping Wills legs. 

Will chuckles breathlessly, falling back into the seat, dragging his hands teasingly up his legs, just skimming close to his groin, up to his smile and then to his nipples, seeing Hannibals eyes darken ever further. Hannibal reaches for the little package and rips it open, pouring the lube over Wills cock without further ado, making him hiss with the sudden cold, Hannibals eyes black on his face, watching his every expression, nostrils flaring.

Will allows the dark need to enter his features, the lines sharpening, a certain cruelty allowed free now, craved and needed, coveted and protected, wanted and buffeted by Hannibal, who rears up and climbs on top of him, mounting him, holding onto his shoulders, squatting over him and Wills hands shoot up, holding onto his waist, another hiss stealing itself from between his teeth. Will lets his hands drop lower, supporting, eyebrows raised in a silent question, answered when Hannibal just grins and begins to lower himself, excruciatingly slow, Wills breath coming in loud moans, head thrown back now, laid out beneath Hannibal, his voice amused yet rough in between gasps.

„So, is this what they call topping from the bottom then?“

Hannibal chuckles at him and then drags his thumbs to Wills adams apple again, softly caressing before he leans back slowly and drops all his weight, effectively slamming down, Wills almost painful yell accompanied by Hannibals loud gasp.

Will holds onto Hannibals hips, white-knuckled and grinds his teeth, his orgasm already beckoning, forcing it down, forces himself to wait for Hannibals body to adapt, forcing himself to breathe more deeply, forcing Hannibals hips to stay still.

Hannibal groans deeply and smiles a sharklike smile, and Will can feel something shift, Hannibals body adapting and Will pushes his hips further to the edge of the seat, and then Hannibal wraps his legs around him, the movement lodging him ever deeper. Wills hands come up and hold onto Hannibals back, over the destroyed branding there, the scars he put there traceable even through the clothes Hannibal still wears. He tilts his head up and Hannibal descends upon him like as starving man, their mouths locked together in an age old dance, softly rocking, movements slow and subtle now that they’re connected, arms around Wills neck, needing to be as close as humanly possible.

Will hears the door open and Hannibal tense in preparation and he just tightens his arms, thrusting his tongue deep, feeling Hannibal groan and relax again in his arms, taking his lead. There is a giggle and then the door slums shut, disappearing quick footsteps are heard and then Will has to laugh as well, Hannibals lips twitching, their kiss turning lighter, though Hannibals hips take up speed.

Will moans into their kiss and then draws back, his hands coming to Hannibals chest, softly pushing and Hannibal raises an eyebrow at him before he follows the small pressure and leans back, all the way, until his shoulders come to rest on the row before them and he drops his head back with a deep sigh, his back arching, their position shifting again slightly. Will bites his lips and adjusts his grip, returning it to Hannibals hips, slowly adding momentum. 

He raises his eyes from the tantalizing view of Hannibals heaving chest, the hands that desperately try to find purchase at the sides, watching the images from he screen flicker their shadows over his form, letting them fall closed, letting himself fall all the way into the rhythm, one hand coming up, caressing Hannibals cock lightly, just there. He speeds up, the thrusts almost jarring now and Hannibal gives a little telltale shudder, making Will reopen his eyes, grinning, before he changes his angle again, hitting that spot and the tightening contractions as much as the staccato moans do the rest, his orgasm this time welcome, joining them both once more in ecstasy. 

He lets his head fall back, smiling softly, his right hand pushing through the mess of come and sweat on Hannibals chest, raising his fingers to his mouth, licking at it, hearing the groan this action elicits from Hannibal. Hannibal comes up and Will withdraws with a deep sigh, expecting Hannibal to get up and clean them up but he just adjusts his seat in Wills lap, returning to their previous position. Will grins at him, voice relaxed, chest almost bursting with emotion.

„Guess I had to do a lot of the work after all…“

Hannibal chuckles and then lowers his head and bites at -his- mark on Wills neck in retaliation, drawing blood unrepentantly, licking at it, Will tilting his head to give him better access, the pain a welcome grounding. When Hannibal comes up his lips are red and Will grins and draws near, tongue coming out to lick at his own blood softly, sharing it in a kiss that belies the obsessive need that runs just below the surface.

Suddenly the lights turn on and Will laughs out loud, the movie long passed, mirth shaking his body, Hannibal joining in after a moment, just sharing the incredulity of the two of them making out in the last row of a movies theatre. Hannibals voice is dry though amused, muffled, nosing along Wills forehead.

„I believe this may be the most unlikely situation the FBI would think of finding us in.“

Will chortles, his face tilted up, just breathing Hannibals scent, the heartbeat so close to his mouth under the skin. 

„Oh gawd, imagine them finding us here, like this, we’d have to go and kill ourselves, we’d never live it down.“

Hannibal hums and then picks up the thread, his voice still light, though not amused anymore.

„Is this something you think about? Us, killing ourselves?“

Will sobers, his hands tightening around Hannibals back subconsciously. He shakes his head minutely, sighing through his nose.

„The only thing that I’m utterly positive about these days, is, that I do not want to be in prison again.“

He draws back, and looks up, his eyes locking onto Hannibals, voice sincere and deadly.

„We will not be separated again. If they catch us again, we will take as many as possible with us and go down in a blaze of glory.“

Hannibal smiles at him, a cruel, deeply loving and proud smile that once upon a time would have made Will cringe. 

Now it does not. 

Now, he echoes it.


	7. Chapter 7

To Hannibals chagrin Will insists on room service for their food, deeming the dinners too high profile for them. Will tries to make up for it and by the end is utterly positive that Hannibal did all of his supposed suffering on purpose. Though, Will reflects, stretching on their bed, who is complaining.

They steal an inflatable emergency dinghy, with paddles and use the dead of the night just after the ship slows down for harbor passage to lower it and drop off, the maneuver risky but also hilarious as far as Will is concerned, Hannibal instantly green around the gills when the big ship has their little … boat swerve and dip with the waves it produces. He lets them drift for a while, getting closer to a pier with the current, before signaling Hannibal to use the paddles, once more stepping onto U.S. soil just as the first lightening in the east hints at the sun.  
He sinks the dinghy and straightens his clothes, the backpack they brought along in their suitcases containing all they need for now. He breathes deeply in, quietly musing.

„Won’t they be suspicious because we’re not there?“

Hannibal shakes his head, still trying to control his breathing, obviously very glad to be on firm ground again.

„Our suitcases will be picked up by a butlering service. They will simply assume that we left unnoticed, and, since our journey was payed for and we have left a substantial tip for the crew., I believe they will not think further about it.“

Will nods, smirking wryly, his tone softly amused.

„Well, come on then, sweetheart, let’s slip passed their noses once more.“

Hannibal shakes his head, mumbling softly something like ‚must be stepping on US soil‘ to himself, making Will chuckle. Will tightens the straps and steps forward, following the pier inward, the towering skyline of New York illuminated by the early morning sun.

 

______________________

 

They flag down a cab near the industrial harbor, taking it to the greyhound station, bustling with people. Will tries to keep his head low, sees Hannibal do the same, their utterly untypical clothing helping, Will sporting a cap, Hannibal a full hat. The greyhound bus tour is rather uneventful, the 14h bus trip to Detroit spent dozing, three rows apart, both resorting to headphones to keep questions of other passengers at bay. 

They buy another caravan in a run down parking lot in Detroit, the grumpy man reluctantly serving them this late in the evening. Will has to grin at him, knowing exactly the thoughts that this behavior raises in Hannibals mind, also knowing that they just can’t. He can see a minute twitch just below Hannibals left eye and has to close his eyes for a moment, grinning like an idiot. The man calls him a jerk under his breath and Will snorts and shakes his head, his hand coming up to stop the motion of Hannibal with soft pressure. He sniffs and holds out his other hand, silently asking for the keys. 

Hannibal climbs into the caravan behind him, silent, softly clicking his tongue when he settles into the seat next to Will. Will looks over from the drivers seat, softly smirking.

„No more hiding in the back and driving in shifts?“

Hannibal raises his chin a fraction, sighing softly through his nose.

„I believe somebody said something about ‚going down in a blaze of glory‘? Therefore, and, be that as it may, and I do not wish for us to go down, I still do not wish to hide anymore.“

He looks over at Will, softly combing a stray lock behind his ear with his left hand.

„Also, I believe Homeland Security has turned to more… pressing matters by now, especially with Jack and her gone.“

Will works his jaw for a moment.

„You never speak her name to me directly… why?“

Hannibal tilts his head, tone carefully neutral.

„I believed it would upset you.“

Will snorts, tone amused though laced with acid.

„What upsets me is your -past- behavior with -her- and the situations that results of this. Calling her by her name will not change that.“

Hannibal hums, watching as Will turns the keys and pulls out of the parking lot, silent for a long moment before he continues.

„It really was a clever plot, mylimasis, sending her, with a reference to a lamb. Clarice was burning to put it into action.“

Will smiles grimly, turning north west. 

„I bet. They’re all burning to prove themselves, only to be broken as soon as they do…“

Hannibal smiles softly, a motion that Will can see just from the corner of his eyes.

„Except you. You did not break as soon as you proved yourself.“

Wills expression hardens, and he rolls his shoulders at the sudden tension.

„No? I thought you managed quite sufficiently to break me back then.“

Hannibal hums again, reaching over to trace the scar on his forehead.

„You never broke completely, and your kintsugi is more beautiful than the world to me.“

Will is silent for a few miles, watching the dark road disappear under them. When he speaks again his tone is wistful and thoughtful.

„I bet you wished to do this right after you had to put the bone saw down, right after they put us on the plane and hung us up like cattle later….“

Hannibal shifts, turning towards him, raising an eyebrow.

„I wasn’t aware you were awake on that trip to muskrat farm.“

Will clicks his tongue, shrugging.

„Well, thanks to your little drugs I wasn’t in much pain at least. It’s all like a fever dream. Being dumped on that little plane and then patched up by some kind of doctor, lying next to your unconscious form on the floor… I know I spent hours and hours looking at you, your face shifting in and out of focus… almost hypnotic.“

Will swallows and purses his lips, Hannibal watching him intently, his eyes dark.  
Will looks over for a moment before he continues.

„For some reason I couldn’t hate you… I forced myself to keep looking, trying to reach for understanding passed the lines of your face. I fell asleep shortly before we landed again. The rest…“

Will shrugs again, sighing softly. Hannibal is silent for a long time, before he reaches up and traces the almost invisible scar close to Wills right ear.

„Do you remember this, beloved?“

Will snorts.

„Oh, Cordell made very sure I would. He really got his kicks from that. Perfect fit for Mason, you’ve got to give it to him. Guess I shouldn’t have enraged him so much.“

Hannibal chuckles, his tone warm.

„Ah, I believe your very admirable action was not in any way responsible for the later outcome. There was not enough of the anesthesia to have both of you unconscious, so he rather planned this from the beginning. In other circumstances, I might have applauded him for it.“

Hannibal pauses for a moment.

„It is a shame though, that he died so quickly.“

Will raises his left eyebrow, a wry and painful smile playing at his mouth.

„Would you have freed me if Alana didn’t ask you to?“

Hannibal looks at him for a moment and then responds softly, calmly.

„Pull over, Will.“

Will sneers darkly and screeches to a halt at the outer lane, no-one there to see them anyway on the side road they’re taking. He turns off the engine, putting his hands on the wheel, breathing deeply once before he looks over to Hannibal. Hannibals voice is very low, his tone brooking no argument.

„I was desperate to save you. You are mine. However, I must also adhere to fate, which had me at Alanas and Margots mercy. I must admit, at first, I did not much appreciate that I had to kill so many to get to you then, costing precious time. Though I did quite enjoy it.“

Wills voice is a whisper.

„The papers called it a massacre…“

Hannibal tilts his head, his dark eyes burning, a dark smile playing around his mouth.

„I used a sledgehammer on their bodies, and retrieving the information where you were was indeed a very much appreciated past-time that night. As was seeing the desperation in their eyes when each and everyone of them realized that there was no mercy for them, shattering so beautifully beneath my fury.“

Hannibal breathes deeply, holding Wills gaze, no doubt remembering that night.

„When I reached you, Cordell had just started to cut at your beautiful face. I stepped up behind him and hit the hammer onto his upper arm, shattering the bone, making him drop the scalpel.“

Will closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out through his mouth, before returning his gaze to Hannibals.

„I can still hear the wet crunching sound. I had closed my eyes when I still could and was not able to open them again but I heard… I heard.“

Hannibal lowers his head a fraction, darkness falling across his face, calling to Wills, the space between them heavy and dense, a fog of memories, conjured willingly. Hannibals voice is amused, laced with dark arousal.

„Ahh, you were ethereal, beloved, lying there, like a feast, sprayed with droplets of Cordells blood, an angel, bound and battered, about to be reborn. I shattered Cordells hands next, then his feet and legs, then his arms. I shattered his spine to get the same effect of paralyzation that I could observe on you.“

Will breathes the words.

„And then you cut off his face without anesthesia. He died choking on his own blood, they told me.“

Hannibal tilts his head further, closer now, whispering imploringly.

„Do you also remember what I said to you, after? When I freed you and clothed you? Did you hear me, beloved?“

Will sighs through his nose, nodding once before leaning closer, also whispering, throat tight.

„I remember. You said that no-one was allowed to hurt me except you. And then you re-did my stitches….“

Will swallows tightly, hand coming to Hannibals to gentle the blow.

„I then knew how I’d be able to get you to surrender…“

Hannibals smile is dark, brutal need mixing with pride.

„What a vicious boy you are…“

Will huffs, shaking his head once, more amused than taken aback.

„Oh, please… You put me under slightly when you dressed me, didn’t you? That’s why there are only flashes from the trip to… to Wolftrap.“

Will swallows again, forces the word ‚home‘ away. It doesn’t fit anymore. Hannibal comes ever nearer, breath hot on Wills lips now. 

„I did. I did not wish you to be in pain anymore. And I… started to regret the rash decision in Italy that Bedelia so cunningly advised me on. I needed time to think.“

Will raises his eyebrows, his expression mockingly surprised and licks his lips.

„Oh? And can you only think when I’m unconscious?“

Hannibal smiles softly, the black eclipsing the red rapidly.

„Or away. Every second in your presence has my mind focused solely on you, ties me more closely to you, mylimasis.“

Will tilts his head, his lips almost touching Hannibals, tone playful.

„Huh. Well, how about we tighten those ties some more?“

It’s not a word that Hannibal is prone to say much, and it thrills Will when it falls from Hannibals lips now, softly spoken, laced with dark need.

„Please.“


	8. Chapter 8

They stay off the highway for the most part, Will weirdly enough much calmer now that they draw nearer. The shifts take their toll and so Hannibal insists on resting before starting the last leg of their journey, only an hour away now. Will really could use some alcohol now, but he resigns himself to keeping as close as humanly possible to Hannibal as he can, his sleep fitful but deep. Hannibal wakes him 6 hours later.

Will checks the gun they brought along, and dons the body armor, turning to Hannibal when he puts his on, tracing the place over his heart for a moment. He turns back, fidgeting and feels Hannibal come up behind him, encircling him softly, arms supporting, not caging. His voice is calm, quoting.

„You do prefer it this way, don’t you, as it was meant to be? No peace in our time. Once more unto the breach, dear friends.“

Hannibals voice is steady but Will is startled into a laugh, turning into an almost giggle. He turns, snorting.

„Oh my god, Hannibal, really? A quote from Shakespeare in a quote from a science fiction film? Whatever don’t you know I wonder…“

Hannibal regards hims with quiet amusement, his eyes crinkling.

„One of the better ones, I believe. And, holding true for us as well. It is not in our nature to stand still, live happily ever after, quietly. We wish to leave our mark.“

Will closes his eyes for a moment before he smiles and steps out of Hannibals embrace, reaching for the folding knife.

„Yes.“

 

_________________

 

They pull up to the malls parking lot, 12 days after the postcard arrived. Will breathes in deeply, a lot of cars around them this time, people rushing passed them, the temperature already freezing again. 

He looks over at Hannibal and smiles, his hand squeezing Hannibals for a moment, before reluctantly removing the knife and gun, putting them into the glove compartment.

„I’ll call from that payphone again. In this godforsaken little town this is the most public place we could possibly get. Except Buger King, probably.“

Hannibal sneers minutely and Will huffs a laugh.

„Don’t worry, I won’t drag you in there. She’ll come. We’ll meet at Rogers Cinema. Want me to get you some popcorn?“

Hannibal smirks, the smile there and gone, his gaze intense. 

„I will survey the vicinity.“

Will nods and then gets out without further ado, hurrying towards the payphone near the entrance, rubbing his fingers because of the cold. He hesitates a moment and then punches in the number, biting his lip, counting the rings. There is a click after the sixth. He repeats his words.

„It’s me. I’m at the mall. Yes, here. Pick me up?“

He can hear her breathe on the other end of the line, hesitating. He smirks and then continues.

„Oh, ok, I’ll just go and watch a movie while I wait. There’s one on in 15 Minutes I believe.“

He is about to hang up when he hears her voice.

„Are you alone?“

He chuckles, his tone calm and soft, inviting.

„Now, where would be the fun in that?“

He hangs up, inclining his head just a fraction towards Hannibal and then pulls the cap down over his face and enters the mall, going for the little movie theatre in the back.

 

__________________

 

He secretly blames her for making him sit through the inane commercials, but then he should have known better. The action movie is one of the overly patriotic ones, irony nonexistent unfortunately and Will shakes his head quite often to clear it. When she finally glides into the seat behind him it’s almost a relief. Her voice is tinged in disbelief, a question and a statement, followed by the sound of a gun being cocked. 

„He is not here.“

Will shakes his head, watching the kids in the middle seats throw popcorn. The youngsters had been quite pissed when he told them in no uncertain terms to take their seats farther front, but now they had readily forgotten about him. Good for them.

„He is near.“

He tilts his head backwards until he can see her from the corner of his eyes.

„I am unarmed. Take me to my dad.“

She hesitates and Will can feel her deliberating. His dad is her trump card, but there is nothing to gain at this stalemate. In the public. With kids around. And Hannibal on the loose. 

Will sighs and then stands up, forcing her hand. He regards her for a moment and then steps out, waiting for her to catch up. He smirks when he feels her step near, the nuzzle of the gun pressing into his side. He clicks his tongue.

„Now, Clarice, don’t be dumb. There is no need to force me. Bring me to my dad.“

She hesitates for a moment and then removes the gun, though she keeps it in her right hand, deep in the pocket of her thick jacket, fidgeting. Not happy with herself. Tough.

„Fine. Let’s go.“

 

_________________________

 

They pull up to his fathers cabin and Wills heart seizes for a moment, the view something he didn’t ever expect to see again after his last visit. And yet, he’s here now. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. 

Clarice leads him around the hut, to the back door. Will smirks wryly and waits until she opens it, her gun trained on him. He steps in when she indicates it with a little wave of her gun, ever the model prisoner. The back door opens to the kitchen, telltale signs of microwave meals and fast food everywhere. Will spots a very expensive bottle of wine and he has to hide his grin, the ploy too obvious.  
He steps into the living room, passed the dining table and seats himself on the sofa at another little wave. She walks backwards, her gun trained on him, and then raps on the guest room door with her knuckles before she unlocks it. Her voice is acidic.

„Look, Steven, your son has come to to rescue you. How very nice of him.“

Will fidgets and then draws a deep breath, waiting. His father steps out of the room, his hands tied on his back, yellowing bruises on his temple but apparently unharmed, stopping, regarding Will for a moment before he shoots a look to the window. Will shakes his head, once, before lowering his head, refusing eye contact for now. His voice is calm, addressing the floor. 

„Well, now you’ve got us, Clarice. What happens now?“

There is a pause and then Clarice laughs, her laughter pearling through the air, pretty, shiny and… hollow somehow. Unreal. She forces the words.

„Well, now, we’ll wait. He will come to pick up his soulmate…“

The last word is scoffed, laced with bitterness and resentment. Will clicks his tongue and has to ask, watching his dad wriggle and try to get comfortable against the kitchen counter.

„What is it that you think will happen, Clarice. Do you really think Hannibal Lecter will be swayed by simple threats and that you get to live happily ever after?“

His father flicks his gaze between them, turning slightly so he can see them both. There is only calm in his gaze and Will feels a weird pride, watching him. She interrupts his thoughts with a hiss.

„You think you’re the only one that can play house with him? We were quite happy in South America. I was… I was building my life there. And then you came and dared to destroy it.“

Will can hear the pain in her voice, his empathy not needed. He carefully keeps his voice neutral, noting the willful skipping of Hannibals drug abuse.

„And now, what is your plan now, Clarice. How do you think you can actually twist this to your advantage?“

She scoffs, grip on the gun tightening.

„I’ve got you here. He will come.“

Will smiles, a dark smile that does nothing to hide the darkness. He can see his fathers eyes fixed on him, eyes wide, absorbing the transformation within.

„Yes, he will. And then? How will you try and get Hannibal Lecter to do your bidding…“

She sneers, stepping one step closer, her eyes flinty. 

„You’ll see…“

Will tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. There’s something they’re missing.   
He flits his gaze around the room, catching another nods of his fathers towards the window. He had dismissed it as a question regarding Hannibal first but now Will turns his head, finally noticing all the tape everywhere, especially around the windows.   
The thought finally clicks just as Hannibal steps up to Clarice from the front door, rising like a boogeyman from the shadows behind her and Will freezes for a moment in fury and terror just as her expression changes into glee. She giggles, the low hissing sound starting up in various corners of the room kicking Will into high gear. He rears up from the couch with a growl, and just sees Hannibal manage to take the gun from her before his vision swims and then fades, her voice accompanying him into unconsciousness.

„Gotcha.“


	9. Chapter 9

He comes to with a roaring headache, seated in the corner of a room. He’s wet and for a moment there is terror in his bones, the terror of a dream woken up from that you wished to keep. Desperately. Will forces himself to open his eyes and actually breathes a sigh of relief when he recognizes his fathers living room. 

He is taped to one of the chairs, his father still sleeping on another one, also taped tight to it, his head on his chest. Another spray of water hits him and he turns his gaze to the woman standing in front of him with a now empty cup, her dark eyes viciously amused. 

„Can you sit up? Try to sit up.“

Oh for heavens sake. Someone change the script. Please. Will torturously pulls himself up, inspecting her clothes and stance while he does so. Also FBI, or at least ex-FBI, he would bet his life on it. Well, actually he is. He raises his eyes to hers, clearing his throat. He tries for amicable.

„And you are?“

The woman smirks and then indicates a little bow before stepping back and putting the cup onto the table.

„Ardelia Mapp. Very nice to meet you, asshole.“

Okay. Will closes his eyes for a moment, his thoughts racing. She’s the same age as Clarice. Familiar with him and this situation. Friend, classmate or even roommate. He forces himself to smile, keeping his tone soft.

„And you. I see you’re a friend of Clarice. Good for her.“

She backhands him, the pain echoing the sharp sound of the slap. She bends close, her voice a whisper.

„Oh, yes. I’m her friend. I watched her get destroyed by the havoc he wrought on her mind. Havoc that you selected her for.“

She steps back again, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her voice taking on a mean inflection.

„She wanted him for her revenge. And I, I must say, I wanted you.“

Will looks up at her from beneath his lashes, his left cheek burning, his neck prickling. 

He grins.

 

____________________

 

Whatever Ardelias plans are, they are not quite immediate.   
By the end of the night Wills back hurts like nothing good and he is rather worried that his father still hasn’t woken up. He can see the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, calming his fears somewhat but they must have given him something else. There’s no sign of Hannibal and Clarice, no sounds from outside the house and Ardelia not reacting to any inquiries after their initial little conversation. She’s watching cartoons, her eyes unfocused and blank, deep in thought, though Will doubts she misses any of his movements.

He is deliberating on how to breach the subject of emptying his bladder when the door finally opens and Clarice comes in, eyes smudged, mascara trails down her cheeks. She walks straight passed Will, right into the kitchen and grabs the sole bottle of wine there, throwing it against the wall with a scream. So, Hannibal has been his usual obnoxious self then. Will has to hide his grin. It -is- quite an acquired taste. Ardelia watches her with tired eyes, shaking her head once. Her voice is quiet, addressing Clarice. 

„I told you he wouldn’t apologize, honey. They’re both way too full of themselves for that.“

His father snorts at that, apparently woken by the scream, mumbling a ‚sorry‘ right after, still smirking wryly. Well, Will definitely has his humor from him. Clarice screams again in fury, leaning against the counter, back bowed, head hanging. Will can see the the smudges of oil on her clothes, and even he can smell the aroma of burnt flesh clinging to her clothes. He grinds his teeth and chooses this moment to redirect their thoughts.

„I need to use the bathroom. Or you can get me an empty bottle and help me I guess.“

Ardelia snorts darkly and cocks the gun before stepping closer and cutting Will free with a large knife that Clarice passes to her from the kitchen. She steps back when the tapes give and then trains the gun onto his father. 

„You try something, he’ll die. Leave the door open.“

Will nods, getting carefully up, his legs and arms prickling with sleep. He steps into the bathroom, leaving the door open, three pairs of eyes tracking his movements. He uses the toilet, quietly contemplating his options. If he waits they’ll kill them both, maybe his dad as well. Hannibal was apparently tortured, is probably out for the count. His gaze falls onto the aftershave with the ship on the bottle and he smiles. 

He carefully keeps his back turned away from all three of them when he returns to the living room, waiting for Ardelia to direct him. Clarice is nowhere to be seen again. As is the knife and Will grinds his teeth again, jaw working, time slowing to an almost stop. Ardelia cocks the gun again, the click loud in the breathless bubble of reality and he turns, utterly well-behaved, using the movement to swing his right hand back and take the bottle out, his thumb pressing the button, the spray aimed at Ardelias face as if in slow-motion, her mouth opening in a silent scream when the sharp perfume hits her eyes. The sound reaches him just as reality takes up speed again and he drops to his knees, throwing himself forward, crashing into her, the bullets hitting the wall behind him with the quiet pop, pop, pops of the silencer. He wrenches the gun from her and hits her over the head with it, her head snapping back, eyes rolling up into her head. He snarls and trains the gun at her, eyes snapping up when his father yells at him.

„Will!! Don’t!“

Will growls through his teeth but complies, getting up again and stalking over to his father, ripping the tape off. His dad rises and embraces him for a moment and Will closes his eyes, snorting at the smell of the aftershave before he gives him the gun, voice dark.

„There should be two bullets left in this. Use them if she wakes before I return. I’m serious, dad. Because she will try to kill you, if you don’t.“

His father nods, silently acquiescing, before he nods towards the front door, his voice gruff.

„Guess they’re in the garage. She might’ve heard the scream. You should hurry.“

Will nods and then sprints to the front door, opening it without further ado. He sees their caravan before the house and runs over to the other side, wrenching the door open and checking the glove compartment, grinning when he sees the gun and the knife still in it. They must have taken it up from the parking lot so it doesn’t draw attention, unattended. He takes both weapons out, listening closely. The sun is just rising, sending his shadow long across the grounds.   
He cocks the gun, moving as silently as possible across the yard. The closer he gets the more he recognizes the smell again, and he seethes quietly, dark fury settling over him. He can see movement through the dirty window, but not enough to actually discern the situation through it. 

He sighs once through his nose before he enters the garage, training his gun at them both. Clarice stands behind Hannibal, who is seated on a chair, naked, his legs and torso riddled with burn marks probably done with the car battery and the torch Will can see lying on the ground. Clarice holds the knife to Hannibals throat but Will only sees that in his peripheral vision, eyes trained on Hannibals almost glowing red with the sunlight coming in through the window. Hannibals eyes crinkle at the corner and Will can feel the echo in his own, only the two of them existing for a heartbeat. Her hiss breaks the moment and Will raises his eyes to hers.

„Drop the gun…“

He smirks and carefully puts it on the ground, tilting his head before stepping carefully two steps left. Nonchalantly. Hannibal smirks softly and tilts his head up, ignoring the knife, until he can look at her face. His voice is deep, amused and unrepentant.

„You were so afraid of him, the last time you saw him. Before the last time you saw him…“

She looks down at him in confusion, momentarily ignoring Will and he takes the chance, bending down in a flash and picking up the engine part lying there on the ground, throwing it at her. She ducks with a yell, the knife following her arms movement, flashing in the sun but away from Hannibals throat for a moment. Hannibal throws himself back, and they go down in a tumble of limbs, Will jumping closer and stepping onto her wrist and she drops the knife, screaming in pain, desperation and fury. He takes it and quickly uses it to cut through Hannibals bindings, dropping it next to him, ignoring Hannibal right after in favor of once more kneeling over Clarice, hands on her arms again. 

He feels Hannibal rise above them, resplendent in vicious dark glory, bloody and wounded, powerful and striking. Wills voice is almost inaudible, his empathy on in full force, feeling the wounded bird that she is and he flashes back to his discussion with Bedelia, already so many years back, his hand closing on the knifes handle, his eyes absorbing her fear until she stills beneath him, quieting, a heavy breath signaling her surrender, all the fight leaving body. 

„I release you now, Clarice. Find peace.“

The cut is quick and deep, almost an afterthought, the spray of blood painting Will red and he holds her eyes, sees the calm acceptance, finally, her eyes closing and he bends down after a moment, sending her off with a soft kiss to her forehead, hoping that she will be comfortable somewhere. When he draws back up her lips curl into a small smile, the motion etched onto her face when eternal sleep claims her, Hannibals hand in Wills hair tilting his head up and Hannibals lips claim his mouth.


	10. Chapter 10

They return to the living room shortly after, blood smeared across both their faces from frantic kissing, their very own war paint. Ardelia sits groggily with her back to the couch, his father sitting in his chair, gun trained on her. Hannibal steps close menacingly, still naked, smirking. His tone is soft, seemingly kind, laced with dark acid.

„Miss Mapp. I must congratulate you to your fabulous strategic planning. It was a cunning plan indeed. However, you would have fared much better if you would have just shot us when you had the chance.“

She swallows, her eyes darting to the front door, tears welling up in her eyes. Her voice is quaking when she finds it after several tries, eyes flitting between the three of them.

„What happens now?“

Hannibal squats down next to her, drawing ever closer, smiling softly.

„Ahh, normally I would make a very beautiful dish out of you, Miss Mapp, however, my husband informs me that his father has asked for your life. Therefore, we will spare it.“

She sobs, once, tears falling freely now. Wills can see his dad swallow once, before he puts the guns security back on, and puts it on the counter. He returns his attention back to Hannibal when he speaks again.

„However, Miss Mapp, this is on the condition that you will move away and forget about this little… incursion, as it were. And the information you have. Make no mistake, we will find you if you do not. And then…“

Hannibal leans forward and traces a tear down her cheek.

„… then I would love to sizzle those lovely cheeks with some onions and red pepper, in a tart sherry foundation with fresh potatoes and a deep, red wine.“

Hannibal draws the air in between his teeth and lip in staccato, the inverted hiss making Ardelia draw back involuntarily by instinct. Will guesses she understood quite nicely indeed. Hannibal holds her gaze for a moment before getting back up and winking at Will before he turns to Wills dad.

„Steven. It is a pleasure to meet you again. Although I do regret the circumstances. I trust you were treated well.“

Will shakes his head, mirth bubbling through him. It really is a sight to behold, Hannibal standing stark naked in front of his dad, who tries his very best to keep his eyes up. Will snorts and then pushes at Hannibals shoulder, his voice suffused with affection.

„Go and get dressed Hannibal. I’ll take it from here…“

Hannibal smirks at him and then nods once, disappearing down the hallway into the bedroom, probably about to sift through all the flannel.  
Will turns back to Ardelia, sighing deeply before kneeling down in front of her, watching her fidget. When he speaks his quiet words ring loud in the expectant air of the room.

„I think the deal is very clear, isn’t it, Ardelia. We will take a head start, leave you here and call the police after six hours. You have my word. You can tell them… most of the truth, if you wish, however I strongly suggest you leave any information out that Clarice probably told you. As you may recall, my husband is a true... artist, and I rather like your face.“

Will leans forward slowly, emphasizing his next words.

„We will never meet again and you will literally drop off the face of the world, is that clear?“

She nods frantically, wringing her hands and Will gets up and gets the tape, quietly and securely tying her to the sofa. When he is done he steps back, and gently places a blanket over her, patting her shoulder, once. He turns to his father with a deep sigh, eyes flitting around the cabin.

„Guess you’ll have to pack, dad. We just can’t leave you here…“

His father nods again and then bypasses Hannibal, who is just coming out of the bedroom, dressed in too big flannel and old jeans. It makes Will smile warmly. Hannibal wets a dish towel and carefully starts cleaning Wills face, chasing the last droplet with his tongue. Will locks gazes with him, and grins softly.

„You’ll have lots of time to interrogate my dad about my past… guess you’ll love that.“

Hannibal inclines his head, expression hungry and raw.

„I can hardly wait, beloved.“

Will steps near and kisses him once, softly yet intense, before stepping back and going outside, watching the sun touch the lawn in front of the house. There is a soft chime from their emergency phone in the caravan, and Wills head whips around before he jogs over and rummages around in their backpack. The number on the display kicks his heart beat back up. He flips it open on the fourth ring, his voice just a tiny bit breathless.

„Margot. What an unexpected surprise.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ________________________________________________
> 
>  
> 
> Next up: our queens^^. 
> 
> I love Margots and Wills rapport.  
> Hopefully I'll be able to write it as it is in my head^^.  
> Don't know what it's called yet but I have written down notes already.
> 
> As always: let me know what you think?


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